Devil's Rose
by Superagaentv
Summary: Tale as Old as Time Song as old as Rhyme Beauty and the Beast. You think the you know the story. The truth may be more frightening than you could imagine.
1. Chapter 1

**Please read, review and enjoy! **

Long ago, in a much forgotten part of the world, there was a castle. It was tall and marbled, the finest craftsmen had built it, a testament to their talent. Cherubs and dragons molding into the peaks, statues and guardsmen on the walls. A gate surrounded the entire place, and inside there was much life. Once it had been bright and sunny, with light touching every place. Now, the cherubs were devils, the dragons menacing, and the place twisted with a dark and maleficent energy. A figure stood in a window, of the highest tower. It was large, larger than man. Something had woken within the depths of the castle, ignored and neglected for too long._ There is someone in my castle._

"Hello? Is someone there?" A voice called out, echoing in the darkness. "I have lost my way."

_Come to stare at the beast, have you? _

"Anybody?" The voice echoed once more, and a darkness flashed within the twisted face. He snarled turning, walking past a broken mirror. A flash of a reflection, a dark twisted figure.

A beast is not just an animal; it can be all manner of things. His sunken eyes were dark and hollow, surrounded by a twisted face, deformed and almost skeletal, skin and muscle clinging to the shell. Sunken nose and earless, this creature walked on long legs, straight and strong but none the less misshapen – like a tree trunk the muscles were woven together in a variety of waves, his arms similar. His cloak flowed around him, his teeth making a snarl out of tissue that could barely be called lips. His image ate at him, the notion that he was such a monster, detested and tortured like a creation of romantic fiction. He growled, flying down the stairs, his feet thudding like thunder as he kicked open the door.

/

The day was sunny and bright, and she stepped out with her basket. She walked dreamily down the lane towards the village, it was early and she enjoyed the quiet. Her rich dark hair matched her eyes, her simple dress did nothing for or against her. She had pale skin, littered with freckles, which made her eyes glow against the pale backdrop. Her cloak brushed against her heels, the hood bounced on her shoulders, her hair done half up, half down.

A book lay in her basket, along with flowers she picked along the way. She had read it almost overnight, since her father was on his trip – she could stay up all night if she wished to. The village was quiet, as it often was at that time, and she made her way to the book shop.

"Good morning Belle." The Baker cried, opening his door as steam rose out. She greeted him in kind, heads starting to pop out at every moment with such a greeting. Belle did not mind the usual morning banter, it was harmless enough. She knew the rumors that surrounded her, they thought she had a few screws loose, marbles for brains – and the less they knew the better. Belle really only cared about avoiding one person – the most odious man in the whole village – Gaston. A great tall fellow, whose pride and skill made him the ideal for all the young women in the village. She hated him, as much as she allowed herself to hate anyone. He had his way with all the village girls, even the young ladies, and she thought it disgusting.

Gaston was tall, with raven hair, a white smile and tanned skin from hunting. The only high point to the man was his muscles, and he had passed attractive to overbearingly strong very early in life – a point which made him unattractive to Belle, if his odious breath and temper had done so first. Walking to the end of the village, she smiled as the book keeper waved to her, opening the door.

"Finished already?" He spoke happily, not needing the obvious answer.

"I loved it! I couldn't bear to put it down."

"Well, I don't have any new books in, my dear. You have cleaned me out once again." The old man said, taking the book from her with a smile.

"Well, I shall have to read – " She looked at the shelves, looking for a title that she did not see.

"This what you are looking for?" The man asked, and she turned – smiling broadly at the book.

"Yes! How did you know?"

"I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but now is as good a time. Take it, Belle. It's yours."

"Oh, I don't know what to say!" She breathed, touching the book like she had never seen it before. "This is too much really."

"Humor an old man, why do you love it so much?"

"It is a tale of redemption and romance, but out of the common way. He is a Prince, but he hides it because he falls in love. He loses her and he becomes twisted and obsessed with revenge, only to discover she is alive, but she no longer recognizes him – she is blind. And they come to love one another once more, all in all, breaking the curse held over one another through love and endurance." She sighed, clutching the book to her chest, "I am saying it rather badly, but it is a rather marvelous story."

"Ah to be young, and in love." The man said, nodding in remembrance. "There is an old saying, true love can conquer all evil."

The girl smiled, thanking the man as she left the shop, the bell dinging as she left. The street was busy now, people were out and about; buying eggs, buying bread and exchanging in gossip. She raised her hood slightly, just enough to cast a shadow on her face. She grasped the basket, placing the book inside as she walked towards the path home. No more greetings of the morning, rather stares for the insane. She walked briskly, making it to the fountain – so close to the safe road home- when she heard his voice.

"Belle!" The voice boomed, and she smelt the mix of sweat and ale on him as he approached. She turned, bowing her head slightly.

"Good morning."

"Not as lovely as you." The great ogre replied, looming over her. He was a good 6'6 of muscle and little brain. She grimaced, but managed a smile, thanking him before excusing herself. "You shouldn't be wandering around on your own, not with your father gone away. It is dangerous."

"It is not a long distance, and it is perfectly safe. I travel it everyday, with or without Papa." She replied, moving in her intended direction. His arm stopped her, and she winced as his breath lingered while he spoke.

"It is not right for a woman to be out alone – oh?" He took the book from the basket, flipping through it as he made a face. "-It is also not right for a woman to read, it would be a shame if you got – ideas."

"May I have my book please?" She asked, extending her hand out.

"Yes,-" He drawled, leaning in as he held the book away. "But-"

"Please Gaston, may I have my book?"

"-you have do something for me." He grinned as she frowned, lowering her hand and watching him.

"What would you have me do?" She asked, careful of his intent.

"Oh anything really. A kiss from the fair maiden." He grinned as watched her face; she was a stubborn creature – attached to her vanity and maidenhood. "Perhaps, your hand in marriage?"

"Either or, the price seems too steep. I bid you good day." She replied, turning around and moving past him. She felt a heaviness on her shoulders as one of his hands grasped her, the other replacing the book in her basket.

"What of a dance, at the next ball?" He questioned, and she turned her head slightly, enough so that she saw him out of her peripheral.

"A warped exchange, but I accept." She replied, moving her shoulder to release his grasp. The man smiled, a chuckle leaking through him as she moved away, walking quickly down the road to her home. The short man came up beside him, watching the girl go. "Mark my words, I shall have her for my wife."

"You could have anyone from the village, but you had to go picking the crazy man's daughter." The man replied to his friend, passing him a musket.

"She is what I seek, she is mine." Gaston replied, narrowing his eyes at the retreating figure. He heard laughter, a woman's laughter, near him and he turned his head. A lovely young blond woman stood by the fountain, her dress leaving nothing wanting. He smiled at her, and she raised an eye brow before sauntering away - with him following.

Belle turned around once more, the oaf was now following someone away, and she was glad of it. The nerve of him, to touch a lady in public. He really was a foul creature, his smell lingered on her cloak and Belle groaned at the thought of washing it. Walking quickly back to her home, she shook her head. "Stupid fool, to promise him a dance. I now have to touch his hands, and I do not want to imagine what he has touched. I doubt he has ever washed them, or heard of soap." She muttered quietly, coming upon her house.

She smiled at the sight, a welcome reprieve from the noise of the village. A sound startled her, and she pushed back the hood of her cloak to see a great Clydesdale lumbering toward her. She held out a hand, offering a soft word of comfort as the horse reared, stomping and prancing in a panicked state. His body glistened with sweat, she knew not how many days the horse had galloped. Papa had been gone for at least a week, the thought of something causing this must panic in their trusted steed made her worried. "Felipe?" She asked the horse when she calmed him down, taking his reigns as the horse breathed, nostrils flared and eyes wide. No amount of her voice or touch stilled him, he pawed at the ground, snorting. "Where is Papa?" She asked him, and he met her eye with fright.

She tried walking him to the stables, but he resisted, pulling in the direction he had come from. She knew not what he had to tell her, but she would not risk ignoring the sign. Pulling herself into the saddle, the horse turned before she was fully seated, bolting for the forest. She gasped and held on to his mane, since she would have slid off if she had not.

Belle's eyes tried to adjust to the forest, but Felipe ran so quickly she hardly had time to understand the changes in the forest. There had been light within the trees once, not now. Hours turned to days and she lay on the horse's back as he walked through the forest now, sometimes he grazed or drank from a small stream while his passenger tried to keep her eyes open. "Where are you taking me Felipe?"

The horse snorted, walking forward through the darkness. The forest was dense now, so much dead growth it clung to them, wrapping its grasp around them, threatening to drag them into death's snare. Belle kept low, looking about as they walked along. She did not know day from night, the hours passed with haste and dreadful silence. This forest made no noise, sometime she thought a lonely owl called, sending chills down her spine. Red eyes watched her from the dark, and she swallowed in her weakened state, disorientated and thirsty. A wolf howled, and it was the first sound in days to reach her ears, and she gasped, clutching Felipe's mane as she did so, the horse trotting ahead.

They had stopped now, and Belle struggled to look up as her eyes saw nothing but shade of grey and black. She narrowed her eyes as she looked up, a large gate loomed but beyond; something far worse stood. A castle, dark against a sky that now cracked and shattered around them as lightening lit up the sky, hurting her eyes and revealing the fortress. She whimpered as the gate swung open, rain no pouring down. She knew not how long she had been outside, nor how long the rain had landed on her skin – but the horse walked forward, snorting with uneasiness. The place creaked and moaned, like it had not been disturbed in some time.

Belle sat up, raining pattering on her eyes as she thought she saw a figure in a window, but is was gone in a blink. She shook her head, grasping Felipe's mane as she swung herself down, wobbling on her feet. She was dizzy and hungry, but she was closer to finding her father, something inside her spoke. She walked closer to the door, a great iron thing from an ancient age. She did not remember a castle even being in this area. A gust of wind seemed to surge out of now where, and she felt the hood of her cloak blow as she reached for the door. It opened, a loud creaking noise accompanying the movement. Belle shuddered as she looked as the darkness within, not a light seemed to exist within, and she summoned her courage as she stepped inside.


	2. Chapter 2

** I have taken ideas from both the move and the original tale. **

**Here is the next chapter! Please read, review and enjoy!**

A crack of lightening lit up the room for an instant, a mere flash of seconds before the door shut behind her with the roll of thunder overhead. Belle turned quickly, now shut away in total darkness, and touched the door with her fingers. It was cold to the touch but did not budge. She was trapped. She placed her back on the door, feeling the dampness of her clothes seep into her skin as she tried to look around. Belle heard a noise, a clink or clank of some sort that startled her. She stepped away from the door, her eyes searching for what had made the sound. Movement caught her eye and she tried to follow it, losing her direction after many twists and turns. Belle stopped, reaching out into the darkness as if there was someone there, or something. Within the darkness something moved before her, beckoning, and she followed.

As she walked her footsteps seemed to echo within the walls of this place, and Belle shivered with cold and fear. She touched her head, a sigh escaping her lips as she leaned against a nearby wall as she supressed tears. She was tired and cold, trapped within this placed that seemed to echo her emotions. Her head snapped up at the sound of movement, a sound that was unnatural to her ears. "Hello?" She called out softly, reaching out once more. A flash a flames rose up in front of her, a tall spindly creature with fire for hands, face engulfed in flames; hollow darken spots where eyes once were. She did not bother looking intently at him in her surprise, she screamed and her feet turned to ran back where she had come from. A tall figure loomed over her, a face twisted and marked with numbers, gears clicking and turning in his body, his eyes rotating cogs of a gear.

Belle screamed once more, turning back to the fiery figure and bolting past him, her footsteps no longer heard over the beats of her heart. Movement behind her urged her faster, sounds coming from all sides frightened her. She felt the world slip out from under her as her foot did not land on solid ground, her body colliding with air then stone as she tumbled down a set of stairs. She did not know if she screamed or not, the air seemed to rush out of her lugs by the time she stopped, landing on something flat and cold, light flashing through a window. Belle opened her eyes slowly, pain radiating through her entire body. She heard a cough nearby and Belle sat up slowly as a voice rasped. "Is someone there?"

Belle gasped, a voice she knew as well as her own. "Papa?" She asked softly, a flash of lightening illuminated the room briefly, and she saw a hand outstretched through bars. Belle crawled over, touching the hand softly, and it grasped her tightly. "Papa, is that you?"

"Belle?" The voice rasped, and the worn face of a nobleman seemed to appear. "No, you shouldn't be here."

"What happened Papa?" She whispered. The man before her looked nothing like the man she knew, he was thin and frail with eyes the flickered uneasily in the darkness. Their family had once been very prosperous, a wealthy merchant in the distant past; but that title had been stripped from them with the destruction of all their ships and belongings. Belle had once had two sisters, but they were much older and had married young for wealth. When the family no long had wealth, her sisters had disowned them while her father had set out to make a living as a farmer. But things had gone well, and her father had been going to the market to pursue a line of enquiry. "How did you come to be here?"

"Belle-" The voice rasped, "You must leave here, quickly."

"You are sick." Belle spoke softly, trying to reach her hand through the bars to touch his face.

"Belle, listen to me." He spoke, grasping her hand tightly through the bars and she gasped in pain. "You must go, leave and never return. Forget me." There was a sound in the distance, and it made them pause, Belle looked behind her as lightening flashed and thunder roared. Her father shivered, suddenly grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. "Go, my daughter. Run, don't look back."

_"There is someone in my castle." _A voice hissed, whispering in the room. Belle felt her father's grip tighten, his eyes going wide like a feral animal.

"I am getting you out of here." Belle said, her voice firm as she pried his hands away.

"Belle no!" Her father pleaded, "Go, before-"

There was a roar, it was like a roll of thunder, maybe once it had been a yell. Belle froze, her eyes searching in the darkness, her breath shallow. Shaking her head, she saw a key ring in the far corner and ran over to it. It had been fastened to the wall, great strength had forced the hook shut, the key ring unmoveable. Belle grasped the ring despite this, her eyes watching as her hands failed to pry the ring loose. Lightning flashed and out of the corner of her eye something stood, a figure. She gasped and turned, her eyes seeing nothing. There was a presence none the less, she felt it; the anger.

She heard whimpering from the cell, and she knew it was her father. She held her breathe, she felt eyes on her and she did not know where to turn. "Run!" Her father cried, and a deep snarl came from whoever was in the room with them. Belle saw her father's arm reach of the cell, trying to grab something and she knew she had to go. Her heart said she could not leave him there, to suffer and die in this place. She heard a sound, a crack, and her father howled in pain; recoiling into his cell. Her feet moved of their own volition, "Don't hurt him!" she cried, falling to her knees as she reached inside the cell, her fingers touching something warm and liquid. She could not see her father's face within the cell, it was too dark; but she could hear him whimpering in pain. "What did you do to him!?" She said, turning her head in the dark to look up at a shadow.

"Come to stare?" A voice growled, it was deep and smooth with an edge like a knife. The shadow must have been seven feet tall, the size doubled in the darkness, lighting flashing and illuminating the giant shadow.

"What are you talking about? I have come for my father." She replied, her voice as strong as she could make it. She turned her head back to her father, who was muttering for her to go.

"He is my prisoner." The voice replied with steely force.

"Can't you see he is ill?" She said, turning to face the creature as she stood. "You must let him go." The shadow chuckled and it made Belle shiver. "Please, he needs a physician."

"You have no place here." The voice snarled, "Get out." She felt the anger behind his voice, and she knew he meant every word.

"I can not leave without him." She replied, her hands gripping the cell door.

"Then perhaps you should join him." The shadow snarled, stepping closer.

"No!" Her father rasped, appearing at the cell door quickly, his hands coming through the bars to grasp his daughter. "Go, daughter."

"Papa, no." She whispered, turning to the hands that grasped her. Her mind ran quickly in a manner of different ways, turning slowly to the shadow. "What if I – " Belle spoke softly, her eyes going from the floor to where she guessed his eyes to be. "-took his place?"

The shadow snarled, "You!?"

"Belle, no, think of what you are doing!" Her father rasped, "Go Belle, live your life."

"You would-" The voice spoke softly, and Belle felt the shift in his anger to something else, disbelief perhaps. "-take his place."

"Would you let him go free?" Belle asked, her voice almost pleading.

The shadow said nothing, and Belle felt like the silence lingered on for an eternity. Her father was muttering his protests, but she heard none of them. The castle seemed to creak and moan, speaking if it's approval and yet disapproval. "Promise one thing."

"Anything." Belle said readily.

"Promise to stay here forever."

Belle opened her lips and shut them again, she looked at her father and touched his face through the bars. Her world went silent, thoughts of her father and sisters came to mind, the farm… "I will never see my father again." She whispered, lowering her eyes to the floor. _But he will be alright._

"I won't let you do this." Her father rasped, clutching her tightly.

"I accept." Belle said, raising her head. It was sudden, the whole castle moaned and creaked along with the thunder and lightning. The shadow moved quickly, the cell was yanked open in a flash, her father seemed be hauled up and out. Belle saw the shadow move, and she ran to follow it. She tried to run behind it, stumbling along the way from cold and exhaustion. The shadow seemed the move faster and faster, until she could no longer feel it around her. She looked for a way in the darkness until she heard the large door creak. "Wait!" She called, urging her feet forward. She felt something cold on her wrist pulling her forward until she reached the entranceway. The door was open, and Belle could see a form throwing her father inside some dark, unearthly carriage. "Papa? Wait, please!" She called, her feet urging her towards the door as the shadow reached it, stepping inside as the door shut. Belle grasped the handle, just as the locked clicked shut. "No." She breathed, her palm resting on the door.

"You've made your choice." The voice snarled in the darkness.

"Why didn't you let me say goodbye?" Belle asked, looking up into the darkness. "I will never see him again, why didn't you let me say goodbye?" She turned so that she faced it, on hand on the door handle.

"You asked for his freedom," The voice hissed, "Not a chance to say goodbye. Perhaps you should have been more specific." Belle turned her head back to the door, shaking her head in silence. The shadow did not move, it seemed to watch her as she shivered in the darkness. "Come with me."

Belle felt something on her skin, and she looked down to see a twisted hand like thing wrapping its long fingers around her wrist. She shuddered and the thing stopped, lingering above her wrist. Looking up slowly, she thought she saw a face in the shadow; sad eyes that seem willed with pain. Belle turned her wrist over her palm as she touched the finger like tendrils, enclosing them in her own. It moved, and with his direction she followed easily. Belle did not think know if they were the same direction as before, it seemed different – they were going up flights of stairs. "Where are you taking me?" She asked softly.

"To your room." The voice drawled, "Or would you prefer to remain in the dungeon?"

"I didn't expect - thank you." Belle said softly as he guided her up another flight. These stairs seemed endless in the dark, and Belle's strength waned as they finally reached the room. The shadow made a sound and the door opened, a large room stood before her and the hand removed itself from hers, and Belle put her hand on the door way, squinting in the dark.

"Lumiere!" The shadow hissed, and Belle turned to find him gone from her side, a subtle emptiness loomed as she turned back to the room. Stepping in, she jumped when the door closed; leaving her in total silence and darkness. Feeling the tears now on her cheeks, she closed her eyes; only to be startled as a fire roared up in the hearth. She sniffed, walking over and sitting very ungracefully on the floor, warming her hands to it. It was not long before sleep took her, her body sliding to the floor in front of the fire.

_Is it true?_

_A girl in the castle?_

The door swung open slowly, faces in the darkness watching her in curiosity and fear. Some were short, their bodies twisted to become much like the master, hands replaced by their profession.

"She must be freezing." A soft voice said, and a small creature walked forth; hands of china cups and a body of cracked porcelain and blue eyes that were glossy with time and age.

"And scared." Smooth like flame flickering alone in the night the fire man spoke. His voided eyes watched in unsettled distemper.

"Whose – fault – might - that - be?" The clockman spoke, his tongue clicking with each word as the gear moved inside him.

"Well we have to help her." A clear voice said, and woman stepped forward. She too was changed like the rest, but her eyes remained the most human despite the cracked porcelain that made her skin. She had been medium height and portly once; now she had only one good hand, the other was molded to her body like a handle, her feet could only take small steps. Her good hand was a mix of different utensils; spoons and little tongs.

"What can we do?" A richer voice asked from inside the room, a figure emerging from the woodwork; a woman made of wood, hair of threads and skin of fading fabric. Face turned to the woman by the fire, looking at her companions with a shake of her head.

"We can give warm clothes and something to eat." The porcelain woman said, "But she must never see us."

"Agreed." The fireman spoke, watching his companions. "We must tell the others."

"I can help her." A young female voice spoke, spinning into the room on feet of dusters and legs of a wooden nature. Her hands were similar to that of her former self, but the fingers were condensed silks of a duster she could separate into tendrils.

"We – should – ask – the – master – first." The clockman spoke. "Should – not – make – him – angry."

"And leave her to starve?" The porcelain woman asked, turning head slightly to address him.

"And freeze?" The wooden woman asked, her wooden eyes watching the creature. "Even you are not that cold Cogsworth. Even I, whose heart has long turned to wood do not wish that for her."

"Could she help us mother?" The porcelain boy asked, stepping forward to take a closer to the girl on the floor. "She is very pretty."

"Look where beauty has taken us." The flameman spoke, "Perhaps her heart is true, it matters not. We are beyond hope, this is our prison."

The dusterwoman nodded in agreement. "But she will turn like us in time."

"Perhaps." A voice drawled behind them, and the creatures turned to face their master. The twisted creature stepped into the light of the fire, the twisted and fractured nature of his skin and muscle; this skeleton of nightmares with holes for eyes, a chest of decaying muscle and tendons moved towards the girl, his hands extending to her and picking the girl in his arms like a doll. His eyes watched her, the light danced on her skin and her lips, her body trembled from cold yet the feeling of her strength remained. He placed the girl on the bed, stepping back from her with an internal wince. There would be no such sleep for him, he had not slept in many a year; no relief from the pain that ailed him. "Perhaps not." He drawled, turning back to the creatures of his castle. He walked out of the room, retreating back to his tower. He no longer cried out with every step, every breath; he no longer had the energy to cry, that was too painful.

Reaching the tower, he stopped as his eyes locked on a thing in a vase. A rose, once red like the blood than ran within him, blackened like charcoal sat under a panel of shaped glass. How many years had it stayed red before decaying like his body? Or perhaps it reflected his soul, he could no longer remember. He growled, looking to the window and the storm outside.

/

_Somewhere in her dreams a voice called to her - _

**_Welcome Beauty, banish fear_**_,_

_\- a lullaby to ease her mind._

**_You are queen and mistress here_**_._

_A haunting sound, a woman's voice – _

**_Speak your wishes, speak your will,_**

_\- a remnant of something long past remembering…._

**_ Swift obedience meets them still._**


	3. Chapter 3

A noise in the dark woke her but her eyes opened slowly, her whole body lethargic as she sat up, a fire suddenly roaring in the hearth as if it had been waiting for her. Turning her head, she saw a plate on the small table beside the bed. _Was that table there earlier?_ There was a small amount of meat, roasted and salted, and a few slices of cheese and bread. A cup of _something_ sat beside the plate, steaming hot with a wonderful aroma. Belle felt herself sigh as she leaned back down, her head touching the pillow as she curled up.

_Wasn't I by the fire…_

She looked up to the canopy above her head, like a tent above her, and then to the bed itself. It was huge, with soft blankets folded nearby to keep her warm. A part of her was grateful for the comfort, another part was wary of this accommodation. Something caught her eye, laying at the end of the bed - on a chest. Moving toward the item, she crawled over, her cloak and dress stiff with having dried as she had slept. _A dress?_ She thought as she reached out a hand, stopping herself as she did so.

The events of the day seemed a distant nightmare, recognition slowly seeping into her mind. She had come through the rain and darkness to this place, for what purpose she did not know at the time. She tried to replay everything in order; her arrival, the faces in the darkness so twisted and mangled, writhing in fire and bathed in horror. She had not seen the last creature, merely a blur of a figure in her mind. His touch she could not forget, it burned still on her skin. She did not know who or what he was, but his touch was cold like marble; yet flesh resided there. He had not hurt her or tried to drag her away, he had been hesitant almost as if touch was….foreign. She had seen nothing of the face, but the voice made her shiver as she looked around the room. _Someone has been here recently._

Undoing the tie of her cloak, Belle swung her feet to the floor as she removed it. She folded it neatly, her fingers going to the ties of her dress. Her fingers felt stiff, as if they were separate from their body as they moved; unaware of movements or thoughts of their owner. As her dress fell to the floor Belle felt the tears, which had been running down her face, for the first time. Softly they came, no sound or sob, embracing her cheeks like an old friend. _I will never see my father or sisters again._ The concept had been far from her mind in the heat of the moment, and while her decision had been the right one, she felt lonely for the first time in her life.

Belle wrapped her arms around herself as she looked at the dress laid out for her. It was so fine, like it had been crafted for royalty. The colour was a rich green, dark like its home, embroidered with something that had once been gold. The style was odd; it was nothing like she had ever seen for fashion. It was as if it had been forgotten here, like the castle itself, lost and alone as Belle was. Belle heard a sound, as if the castle was moving or thinking, a groan or moan almost answering her thoughts. Logically, she knew castles did not have minds or expression of thought; but even stone walls are a better comfort than no one at all.

Picking the garment up, she narrowed her eyes; the fabric was silk, such finery she had not seen since the city, and even then not many could afford this measure of quality. Belle began to undo the ties, her skin covered in goosebumps as a chill seemed to rise on her spine. As she felt the fabric slide down her body, Belle was aware someone was watching her. Her body had produced this same reaction before when Gaston had first met her, watching her from afar. Looking around the room Belle saw no one, but the feeling did not cease. Tying the dress, Belle walked to the fireplace, then the window pane until she had looked over the entire room. This proved she was not alone; there was no dust anywhere in the room. Try as she might, she found nothing, which meant there was someone in the castle. The images of the faces in the dark flashed to her mind; one fiery, one twisted and ticking. She doubted those faces had done this, which meant there was life here aside from herself.

This idea caused her to dry her tears as walked to the table. _Should I eat it? It could be poisoned._ Belle mused, picking up the china cup as smelling the brew inside. _If he intended to kill me, he would have left me to die in the dungeon. _She sipped it and was wonderful; a mixture of roses and other herbs that made her heart swell and her body relax. _Strange, _she thought as she sipped it again, _I saw no roses here._ Eating a bit of bread, she found it had been freshly made; still warm as she ate. It seemed like something from a dream, and her body started reacting to being fueled once more. Her eyelids felt heavy, the weight of the meal filling her stomach with a warmth she enjoyed.

The castle seemed to moan and shift once more, this time with malcontent. She stood, a slice of bread in her hand as she stood by the door; her free hand grasping the handle with concern and fear. A roar sounded, and Belle froze; anger seemed to flow out from both the castle and the creature – a sound like death that echoed in every orifice.

_Someone – _

The castle seemed to hissed words throughout, the fire flashing out in her room, but Belle barely noticed. It was as if a nightmare snared them, in that moment the castle was angry yes, but afraid.

_-come to stare – _

Belle felt her fingers clasp the handle, the door opening at her command. As she stepped around the door into the small opening, she felt the castle groan again, a shuddering. Something called to her, a feeling she did not understand. In the middle of a wake of despair, there was desperation and hopelessness; a hurricane of horror, the eye of sadness. Her feet moved of their own volition, someone was calling out, reaching out for help in the middle of this storm.

_-at the beast!_

There was no door to open, the floor a minefield of broken statues and pottery, rotting pictures on the walls – ripped to shreds. Misery like a fog, Belle walked in the dark. Snarls in the dark, trembles in the walls. Belle stopped, the pain radiated from the center of the room. Something small glowed in the dark, faintly calling to her. She narrowed her eyes in the darkness, she could not make out what it was. Slowly she moved, her fingers on the wall as her eyes searched in the darkness. Moonlight seemed to touch the edge of the room, not daring to come inside. Something was there, a mass on the floor in the dark. She did not her feel herself tremble as she stepped forward, whimpering's like tear drops fell on her ears.

As she reached him, she felt her knees bend as she reached out into the darkness. Her fingers felt the cold of his skin as her torso felt the impact. Her body flew backward, such a force she had never known.

Silence echoed, the light seemed to touch her skin. Her eyes looked up, a strange kind of moon looked down at them, and it was an eerie white, eye of silver peering into that desolate place. Shattering of glass broke the reverie, sound rushing back to her as pain radiated. Ringing replaced logic, her ears sounding out like a bell. A face loomed, a body shadowing her yet shrouded in darkness. He was saying –

"Please - " She breathed, "Come into the light."

That he did. A face fit for no living creature. Belle watched, her eyes looking at his form but could find no words to express the horror. Twisted nature of his skin, muscle and tissue entwined like tree roots, yet living and decaying, his organs as dark as the light behind them. She forced herself up, resting on her elbows as she brought her face closer to his. In the depths of face, something blue flickered there; distant and wizen, dull and lifeless. The eyes of a man had once rested there, whether Belle truly understood…. yet to be seen.

He snarled, his hand shooting to her neck before she could react. "Come to stare at the beast?" The girl in his clutches said nothing, his grasp crushing her windpipe. "Is it all you thought it would be?" Her eyes were searching his face, her body shaking; nothing could shake the anger in his soul. "Don't you know what you could have done!?" He roared, shaking her; causing her to close her eyes in pain, her soft hands touching his own. His breaths were heavy, fast, and a pulse in his ears beat like a drum.

_It was there in the moonlight, two hearts would change. A light would to glow from within the rose. A lady would wipe away a tear. _


	4. Chapter 4

**I am writing this way too late at night for me, so I apologize for mistakes. Please enjoy! And review, those make me so happy!**

He froze, he felt something shift within him; an emotion he had not felt in quite some time, if ever. The girl was slack in his grasp, and he released. He felt the trepidation as he waited to see her chest rise once more. Waiting was more painful than any mutation or torture, and he felt something other than guilt rise near his eyes. Shifting closer, he cradled her in his arms as he heard the faint murmur of breath. Relief swept over him, releasing the breath he had been holding.

Movement behind him broke him from his revere, but he did not move. She was so tiny, her body was strong and feminine, but to the monster, she was but a feather. She smelt of rain and the embers of the fire, her skin had gone cold yet her lips remains a fleshly pink. Standing, he kept her close to his chest, if he had a heart that is where it would have lain.

A female voice whispered in the dark. "Is everything….?"

His eyes flickered in their sockets, the darkness revealed its secrets. The rose lay on the ground, a few black petals spread on the floor along with the glass. He sighed, a growl to the ear, and turned to face his servants. A few had timidly entered his chambers, most clustered around the door. "All is well."

"She…lives?" The voice asked, a form taking shape. She was remarkably the most human like of the creatures in the place, perhaps the most striking think was her eyes. Like a kaleidoscope they held many different wedges of colour, and they shifted when need demanded. She had fingers and arms that were free to move around, yet if inspected; the nails were made of paper, tiny words written on their pages. Her face was young, perhaps she had been a young mother once, with a soft smile and warmness to her looks. Slight wrinkles on her face had faint text that changed, her body wore a dress made of a fabric akin to paper.

"She breathes." He responded, a deep sadness entering into the gruffness. "Nothing lives in this nightmare."

The eyes shifted, resting on a golden colour as she scanned the room. Bruises were already forming on the girl's neck, but her chest rose softly against the creature's twisted torso. Looking at the rose, the eyes shifted to a blue colour, glowing in the darkness. "The petals are only dead ones, Master. No damage was done."

"The fault –" He breathed, and the castle trembled with fear and anticipation. " – is mine. She should not have come here, but I – " He grimaced and looked at his servant with a look befitting a small dog. "I let my rage carry me too far."

"It will be hard for her." The fireman hissed, "When she wakes she shall have no one to comfort her, to quench _her _fear."

"You think I don't know what I have done?" He snarled, stepping in towards the darkness. "You think I am not aware of my own hand? She could have broken, snapped, in my hand; like glass. That alone is not the worst of it. I am not so ignorant as you think, Lumiere." He spat the name like poison, his body beginning to shake. Eyes shifted colour, a raging silver, and the castle shivered along with the servants.

"The pain has returned." The paper woman spoke, her voice concerned. "How long-

"It never left, you fool. How many times do I have to say that books do not hold all the answers. Accept this, it is our fate." He hissed, moving past them quickly as he felt his anger rising. For once he was thankful for longer than normal legs.

He stopped outside her door, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the notion that this tiny creature would no longer be near him. He sighed, forcing sentimentality away as he entered her room, placing her gently on the bed. He felt the fire roar to life, and he wished he had the capacity for smiling. In firelight the girl looked as pale as snow, her dark hair framing her face in a messy _just tossed across a room_ way.

He had a sudden pang to move a piece of hair away from her face, it was laying so awkwardly over her nose. Such actions were not in the realm of possibilities, he knew. Turning, he moved toward the door.

"Where – where does it hurt?" Belle whispered, opening her eyes slowly and looking up at the ceiling. Her voice was raspy, it hurt to talk, but it had hurt more to just hear the words within the fog. She could feel his hesitation, but it paled in comparison to her own loneliness. It had a life of its own, growing within each potential second of being alone. It threatened her, looming in the shadows of the castle, with each murmur but no body for the voice. She could hear the sound of him moving away, and she let out a sob before she could comprehend herself doing so.

She jumped when he spoke, turning her head to see his figure hunched, like an old man by the door. "I….didn't mean for it to go so far."

Belle sniffed, the tears falling from her lashes onto her cheeks. "You were afraid." She responded in time, "I didn't mean to startle you."

"This place…" He started,

"I understand." She spoke, her voice raspy. "I could hear your pain, as if it lives in the walls."

"It does." He responded, turning so his face met hers. She flinched at the sight, but she did not look away. A moment of understanding grew there, and Belle moved slightly on the bed, making enough room for him to sit. He approached slowly, sitting down like a timid child. There was a long silence between them, Belle took in every aspect of his form. "Everywhere."

"Pardon?"

"The pain – it is everywhere." He said softly, looking up at the ceiling. Belle closed her eyes, she could hear the castle as is shuddered against the cold, and the gargoyles seemed to roar in the distance. The cobblestone steps wobbled under the force of wind, inwardly the castle curled in on itself; not wanting to surrender warmth or life.

"What happened here?" She whispered, opening her eyes once more. The creature shook his head slowly, growling as if to say _not tonight_. Belle let the silence linger, until he came to look her in the eye once more. "What is your name?" The question was so simple, so normal and yet she could feel him recoil back. "My name is Belle."

"I….do not deserve your kindness, Belle." He growled, "I do not deserve to be called anything less than what I am; a beast."

Belle frowned, tucking her chin down as she rolled to her side. "I can not call you that." She replied, a growing smile on her face that she did not try to hide. "At least not in your presence." He made a sound, the meaning she could not decipher easily until he spoke.

"Then you may call me William." He stood, covering her with a blanket; his long twisted fingers moved as gently as he could, seeing her flinch at his movement struck guilt into his heart. "But only in my presence." Belle smiled slightly, watching him leave with a mixture of fear and relief flooding her body.


	5. Chapter 5

In her nightmares, a woman lingered in the distance, cloaked in darkness and light, speaking to her on the wind before rushing towards her as thorns started to grow on her hands and arms, her hairs slowly transforming into rose petals. Each time she woke, Belle could only gasp for breath as the fire suddenly roared, the castle creaked as it sensed her terror.

This particular morning, the nightmare had taken a face; a woman of exquisite beauty and grace, but eyes like black diamonds shining in the moonlight, whispering _Who could ever learn to love ….a beast._ The thorns had dug into her skin this time, as the stem of the rose seemed to wrap around her; blood running to the ground to its roots where it drank it in as it slowly strangled her.

Panting she sat up, throwing off the blankets as she threw open the door – suddenly she had a desire for sunlight. Her feet moved blindly, she moved down the stairs with little or no sound startling as she saw fire standing at the landing below. The creatures turned to look at her, if it was startled she couldn't tell, but it started backing away –"No, wait please!" She begged, it had been many days since she had seen anyone in the castle, and she had spent most of her time I her room for fear of incurring the wrath of its master. "Please don't go."

"The master wouldn't like it." The voice responded, and she had a vague memory of seeing the creature on her very first night here, when she had tried to find her father.

"Please, I only want to see the sun." She pleaded, moving down the stairs to get somewhat closer. The creature turned back to face her, she had not been aware he was even turned around.

"T-h-h-he sun-n-n-n do-e-e-e-es no-t-t-t-t shi-n-n-n-ne he-r-r-r-r-re." A voice replied, and she turned her head to see the approach of another, even in the darkness she could see his deformed face, and heard the ticking.

"At least let me breath in the air outside, anything to leave that room for a few moments." She said softly, looking toward the door.

"Alright, follow me." The fireman said, and she nodded, walking along beside him watching him carefully as the voice behind them hissed.

"Lu-u-u-umier-r-r-r-e wha-t-t-t ar-r-r-e yo-o-ou doing?"

"You're name is Lumiere?" She asked and the fireman turned so she could see his face. "My name is Belle."

"You are not afraid?" He asked, stopping as he did so.

"No, I am not afraid." She replied softly, smiling ever so slightly. "I feel as though I have met you before."

"Lumiere takes care of the fire in your room." A woman's voice said, and a figure wisped into view and she gasped slightly as the duster girl seemed to float in, and Bell took in as much of her form as she could in the darkness.

"Oh, thank you." Belle said as she turned back to the Lumiere.

"You are very welcome mademoiselle." He replied, bowing slightly and she smiled but shook her head as she touched his shoulder and he jumped, fire flaming around his entire body and she pulled back her hand as she felt the flames dance on her skin. "You must forgive me-

"It's my fault, I startled you." She replied and he shook his head sadly.

"It has been too long since I have felt the warmth of human kindness, I apologise mademoiselle. The master will not forgiv-

"I forgive you." She said, her voice kind but firm. "Please don't fret over me, I am alright –see, you didn't burn me at all." She showed her hand to him, where a faint red lay on her skin but nothing to indicate real harm done.

"Lumiere, you must be careful!" The dustgirl said softly, concern obvious in her voice. "What will the master say-

"He can talk to me about it." Belle said firmly and the two went silent as they gapped at her in their own ways as the girl before them swayed on her feet. "May I sit down?"

"Oh course mademoiselle." Lumiere said, making a motion as a chair walked over, and Belle blinked as a face appeared in the cloth. It was old and twisted, his knuckles were arm rests while the face was scattering in the cloth.

"Will I hurt you?" She asked it, and the cloth linked at her.

"He can say nothing, I'm afraid, he has long since lost his ability to speak." The dust girl explained as she indicated Belle should sit.

"Does this happen often?" She whispered, afraid to ask.

"Yes, when time has stripped us of what is left of our humanity." The girl explained, tucking her head and Belle frowned as a door swung on, air rushing in and Belle breathed in the smell of pine and soil.

"How long have you been here?" Belle inquired, closing her eyes as she let the breeze sweep over her.

"I don't know mademoiselle, we have no contact with the outside world to tell." Lumiere remarked, and Belle nodded slowly as she opened her eyes.

"Are you all that are left?" She asked, looking from one to the other.

"There are roughly twenty of us left like this, most of our friends have become…much like this chair or worse." The girl said and Belle frowned, looking at her own hands.

"Has anyone turned into a rose?" She asked softly, and the two went very quiet once more.

"Not e-

"You must never ask us about the master." Lumiere whispered, "He has forbidden us to speak of it." The man looked away, facing the air as the fire melting away from his 'hands'.

"I was asking about myself." She whispered, "I keep dreaming of a woman whose beautiful and deadly, terrifying yet alluring and each time I am slowly being transformed – until …it strangled me."

"You poor dear." Another voice said and Belle turned her head to face the sound of whoever was approaching. "I knew something like this might happen."

"Who are you?" Belle asked, feeling slightly overwhelmed by it all.

"Mrs. Potts dear, can't you tell by the china?" She chuckled and Belle smiled softly, nodding ever so.

"What did you mean, you knew it might happen?" Belle asked and Lumiere flared up once more, looking directly as Mrs. Potts.

"It started to same way for us dear, but over time." Mrs. Potts explained softly.

"We are forbidden to speak of it." Lumiere hissed and the china woman made a noise.

"She deserves to know what is happening, she's alone and she's scared with no friends and no one to turn to –

"There's William." Belle whispered and the two stopped arguing. "I can talk to him." She sounded more like she was reassuring herself that there was someone in this castle she could talk to, a friend.

"The master? Dear, you must be careful there, he is…not himself." Mrs. Potts said carefully.

"You mean, because of what happened?" Belle asked, and the creatures around her nodded.

"He could have killed you dear." The china woman said softly, and Belle shook her head.

"No." Bell said firmly, remembering the frightened look in his eyes when she had touched him, the pain and suffering that turned to quickly to rushed anger. "He wouldn't."

"He has before," The dust girl said softly, "Strangers who wander into the castle."

"He isn't like that." Belle said, not knowing how to why she was spouting what her head told her to be nonsense. "I know he seems viscous, but he isn't –He's alone in a sea of emotions he can't escape." She chuckled softly, touching her head. "That sounds crazy doesn't it?"

"No, dear." Mrs. Potts said softly, before piping up. "Goodness me, you must be hungry? How about we go to the kitchen and see what we can whip up."

"That sounds wonderful, thank you Mrs. Potts." Belle said, standing as she thanked the chair, walking beside the china woman as they made their way to the kitchen, Lumiere and the dust girl following behind.


End file.
